


Dirty Laundry

by mishagusta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:57:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishagusta/pseuds/mishagusta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>shameless pointless porn inspired by the season nine preview prominently featuring misha in boxers woof</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Laundry

Dean pulled open the filthy, water-spotted glass door of the vacant Laundromat with a creak and held it open for Cas. The door squeaked shut behind them as they peered around at the flickering fluorescent lights and the decade-old television playing static in the background. Personally, Dean couldn’t wait until they were back home at the Men of Letters hall, where the laundry was free and you didn’t have to wait, knee bobbing impatiently against the grimy tiled floor, but being halfway across the country and Cas’ clothes covered in blood, this would have to suffice.

Cas sighed and made his way over to the first machine, opening the door and stripping off his trench coat. Dean let out a groan as he sat down in the faded yellow plastic chair, picking up the old remote to the television in and trying to change the channel, pushing his thumb hard into the button. Nothing. The batteries were dead. 

“Damn static.” 

He got up and reached up to the television to turn it off, a flicker of light and then a black screen replacing the noise. He caught a glimpse of Cas undressing in the screen and swallowed as he turned back around.

Cas was down to his white shirt, boxers, and black socks pulled up to his hard calves. He was trying to loosen the tie around his neck, tongue poking out between his teeth in concentration. 

“Here Cas, I got it.”

Dean reached out and loosened the tie gently, Cas peering up at him from underneath his eyelashes. His dick twitched in his jeans, just like every time Cas looked straight into his eyes. The sound of satin against shirt hissed softly and Dean placed the necktie in Cas’ hands.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean grunted and turned around, rubbing the two day-old scruff against his jaw nervously. He walked down the aisle of washing machines before turning back and seeing Cas in the same position, tongue sticking out of his teeth, struggling with the buttons on his shirt. For someone who – up until recently – had been an angel of the Lord, he had trouble with the simplest things.

“Cas, you’re killing me here.”

Dean closed the distance again, inches away from Cas as he undid the buttons down his shirt with shaking fingers, hardly accomplishing more than Cas. His stomach flared as he glimpsed the smooth planes of Cas’ chest, dusted with hair that dipped down to his stomach and trailed down underneath the waistband of his boxers.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” Cas ignored the crack in his voice.

“You appear nervous.”

Dean breathed a nervous laugh and turned away once more, stopped short by Cas’ arm on his bicep. His gaze shot from Cas’ slender fingers to his eyes, his own laced with hunger and longing.

“What is it, Dean?”

Dean’s eyes raked over Cas – he couldn’t help it – from his perpetually messy hair to his clavicles and the white shirt hanging open over his torso, his white boxers now straining slightly against Cas’ dick. He didn’t have a boner yet, but Dean could tell he was getting there.

It took every ounce of Dean’s willpower not to reach out and grab Cas by the front of his shirt and pull him in to catch his lips with his own. His eyes flicked back up to Cas’, who was giving him the under-the-eyelashes-confused-puppy-gaze again. He’d been able to control his feelings for Cas for a long time. But Dean didn’t know how much longer he could stand this.

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas growled as he took a step forward, and Dean didn’t step back. His dick was centimeters from Dean’s, and Dean was doing everything in his power to ignore this fact as he took a deep breath through his nose.

And that was when Dean knew he was doomed.

The smell.

Rainfall, campfire, vanilla, leather, whiskey, pine needles, sweat; all mixed with the warmth of Cas’ breath. Dean whimpered.

“Tell me what you want, Dean.” Cas whispered, flexing his dick. It closed the gap between them, rubbing forcefully against the fly of Dean’s jeans.

Dean gave a cry of defeat and grabbed his jaw, crushing his lips against Cas’ with the force of every time he’d wanted to and forced himself to stop. He seized Cas by the waist and pulled him tight against his own hips, thinking of all the times he’d held back his touch as he parted Cas’ lips with his tongue and moaned into his throat. Cas growled in response, grinding his cock against Dean’s as his hands snaked around Dean’s neck and into his hair. His hands travelled back over Dean’s chest and stomach, around to his tight ass and over his back to his sharp shoulder blades.

Dean broke apart with a grin, a look of excited anticipation tinged with fear coloring his emerald eyes as he tried to pull his jacket off.

“Let me show you what I want, Cas.” 

Cas let out a low growl from the back of his throat, pressing his lips hard against Dean’s once more as he threw the jacket to the ground. Cas tore his shirt off and tossed it onto the machine next to him, the warmth of his body hard against Dean’s plaid shirt. His hands flew to Dean’s buttons, fumbling over them as Dean’s played at his lower back, dipping below the waistband playfully.

“Dammit, Cas!” 

He shouted, shoving Cas’ hands away and taking a step back. His hands shot to his collar and he gripped the shirt tightly, ripping it apart. Buttons flew in every direction as he whipped the shirt off and closed the gap between him and Cas, pushing him roughly against the machine as their skin seared at the firm touch of one another’s heat. Cas’ dick was straining against his boxers now, Dean’s own screaming against the confines of his jeans. Cas moaned against Dean’s mouth, taking his bottom lip in Dean’s teeth and rolling it as he worked his throbbing cock against Dean’s. Dean sighed into his open mouth, heat spreading over Cas’ scruffy upper lip.

“What am I going to do with you?” Dean spat against the side of Cas’ mouth, “Oozing before the fun even begins.”

Dean was right, Cas blushed as he looked down to find a growing wet spot over the head of his dick, turning his boxers transparent. Dean reached down and took a firm hold of Cas’ erection, an evil look in Dean’s eye as he squeezed Cas’ cock and grinned. Cas moaned, echoing off the walls and tile floor. He squeezed again, Cas writhing against the cold metal, body wracked with spasms of pleasure with each squeeze of Dean’s calloused hand. Dean knelt down and teased his lips against Cas’ boner, kissing and running his tongue against the wet fabric. Cas bucked his hips, attempting to press him crotch into Dean’s hungry face, but Dean held his hips against the machine and glared up at him.

“You won’t cum until I say so.” 

Dean hissed. He glared into Cas’ hungry eyes for a moment before standing up, a whimper escaping Cas’ lips at the sudden distance between them. His fingers slid off of Cas’ hips and to his belt buckle, fumbling slowly as he relished the mad look in Cas’ eyes. Dean popped his button fly open with four quick snaps, dick immediately springing to attention. He shimmied his jeans over his hips and down his hard thighs, Cas’ breathing frustrated and heavy. 

Dean’s hand rubbed gently against his bulging cock, eyes closing in pleasure as he ran his palm over his shaft and down to his balls. Cas reached to his own cock but Dean swatted his hand away before he could touch, pinning it to the top of the washing machine.

“What did I just say, Cas? You will not cum until I say so.”

Cas growled again, echoing again inside the Laundromat. He hadn’t known Dean was such a controlling alpha male. Cas was blaming it on the daddy issues, but hey, he was definitely not complaining.

Dean plunged one hand below his waistband, working his cock while the other ran over Cas’ smooth skin. He travelled up his firm stomach, over the planes of his pecs, pinching and teasing his nipples and exploring up to his neck, where Dean placed a firm hand around his Adam’s apple. Cas basked in the warmth of Dean’s rough hand against his neck, back arching in agony as he refrained from touching himself. He didn’t know how much longer he could take this. Dean slid his hand over to Cas’ jaw, cupping the sharp curve gently as he leaned forward and kissed him once more. Cas was rough, greedily sucking Dean’s kiss and scouring over his jaw to his neck, sucking and swirling his tongue against Dean’s supple skin.

“Fuck me, Winchester.” 

Cas rumbled against Dean’s jaw, breath hot and wet. Dean’s dick swelled at the sound of innocent little Cas spewing profanity.

“Not yet, angel boy.”

Dean kissed a slow, whiskery trail down Cas’ sternum, down his stomach and following his happy trail to the edge of his waistband, where he darted his tongue in and pulled it out slowly. Cas’ hard-on yearned against the soaked fabric, standing at full attention. He took the waistband in his teeth and pulled it slowly downward, nose tracing from Cas’ head to his slick shaft and down to his balls. He shimmied the drenched boxers off with his teeth and flung onto a nearby machine. Cas sat there, legs splayed atop the washing machine, dick throbbing and eyes heavy with starvation. Dean thought Cas naked was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, arms thick and built, throat hollow and panting, not to mention Cas squirming in frustration because Dean was in control.

His tongue graced the crown of Cas’ slippery cock, tongue running over the peak repeatedly. He flicked his wicked eyes up to Cas’ face, staring deep into his eyes as he swallowed his cock whole, plunging it to the back of his throat and kissing his pelvis with ease. Cas yelped like a wounded dog, gripping handfuls of Dean’s hair. He slid Cas’ dick out of his mouth and licked a smooth trail down to the base, bringing it back up and swirling his tongue around Cas’ head.

Dean grasped Cas’ solid thighs and threw them over his shoulders, taking Cas’ head with his soft lips once more before plunging his cock into his throat. He didn’t stop, taking him into his mouth over and over again, the slick, sandpaper of his tongue scraping against Cas’ boner, the salt of precum flavoring Dean’s mouth. He immersed Cas in the wet oven of his mouth, his head rubbing the back of Dean’s throat raw.

“Dean, I- I can’t… Dean, I’m going to- I’m going… to--”

Dean pulled Cas’ cock out of his mouth with a soft pop, gripping it in a tight fist.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Cas? You’re not gonna cum until I fucking allow it.”

Dean removed Cas’ legs from his shoulders and stood up, picking up Cas’ tie and boxers off the machine and seizing Cas’ face in his hand. He stuffed the man’s drenched boxers into his mouth, a look of confusion coloring Cas’ eyes as Dean tied the familiar blue necktie around Cas’ wrists and cinched it tightly, holding his hands over Cas’ head. Dean walked over to his jeans and pulled out his wallet, reaching in for a few coins and a condom, then turning back and approaching the washing machine once more, taking a moment to take in the sight of his prize. He leaned over Cas, removing his boxers from his mouth and kissing his lips gently while reaching over his head to push the coins in the slot. With an evil smirk, Dean shoved them back into his mouth and pressed the start button, the entire machine began to rattle beneath Cas.

Dean took Cas’ smooth dick in his hand for a moment, jacking slowly as the machine shook and Cas closed his eyes in pleasure. He bent down once more to trace the base of Cas’ dick with his tongue, sliding over his balls and wandering down between his legs. Cas squirmed on top of the machine, begging him to continue. He pushed Cas’ hard thighs back, exposing his tender, pink ass.

Dean’s mouth watered hungrily as he stared into it, tracing his tongue around the rim as Cas moaned into his gag. He dove his tongue into Cas’ hole, cock shooting a fresh wave of precum onto his stomach. Dean enjoyed teasing Cas, preparing his ass for Dean’s eight inch dick. The condom was lubricated, but Dean couldn’t resist.

Dean licked his fingers, tracing circles around Cas’ hole before pushing them past the surface as Cas howled into his gag. He worked them around slowly and gently, suddenly breaking into quick, forceful gestures, only to return to a gentle push.

Dean grinned from ear to ear as he pulled his fingers out, leaving Cas feeling empty and hornier than ever. Was this all he had to look forward to as a human? Endless sexual frustration?

Dean took the condom in his teeth and tore it, spitting the wrapper and sliding the contents over his smooth erection. He worked his cock for a few moments, allowing a sigh to escape his mouth before Cas let out a highly annoyed grunt.

“Do you want it, Cas?” 

Dean asked playfully, teasing Cas’ hole with the very tip of his cock, tracing slow circles along the edge of his rim. Cas writhed atop the machine, moaning into his underwear with a muffled longing. Dean pushed pas the surface, going as slow as possible, stopping once his head rested inside Cas’ ass, and pulling back out even slower. He did it again, until a fourth of his cock was inside the man, then half, almost all of it, and once more, pressing his pelvis against Cas’ warm ass, the entirety of him snug deep inside him. He held it there, savoring the look of euphoria in Cas’ eyes, head leaning back against the quaking machine. He pulled out completely a final time, slower than ever, paused for dramatic effect, and charged into Cas’, slapping against him unapologetically. 

Cas let out a groan, somewhere between pain and pleasure as Dean rammed him again, and again, squeezing his eyes shut as Dean threw his head back in satisfaction.

Cas worked in sync with Dean, catching the impact with a roll of his hips, knowing without a doubt he’d be sore tomorrow as he swallowed Dean whole, feeling every ridge an vein of his huge cock rubbing against the inside of his ass.

Dean held Cas’ hands, tied tight, over his head as Cas wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, pulling Dean in closer to him. He needed Dean to be closer, to be as far inside of him as possible. Dean punched his prostate relentlessly.

He bent over Cas, back curling into him as he pressed his lips to Cas’ neck, pausing occasionally to take him in his mouth and suck until he bruised, scraping his teeth down Cas’ scruff as his hips collided gruffly with his ass.

He rammed him without restraint, Cas’ back rubbing raw against the rumbling machine underneath him. Cas’ breathing was quickening, lungs rising and falling in rapid succession. Dean could feel his balls starting to swell, tightening in anticipation. He quickened the pace, taking Cas’ cock in his hand as jerking in sync with his hips. He could feel Cas about to reach climax, arching his back, toes curling. He pulled out completely and pressed firmly against Cas’ hole, bending over and biting Cas’ earlobe.

“Now.” 

He hissed, plunging inside of Cas. Cas yelped into his boxers as he came, spewing thick, hot ropes of cum onto his stomach and chest, panting as Dean worked him through the orgasm, gasping as he came inside of Cas, triggered by the rapid clench of Cas’ sphincter. 

Dean continued until he’d gone flaccid, breath heated as he pulled out and collapsed on top of Cas, their fiery skin covered in a thin film of sweat. They lay atop the shaking washing machine, struggling to catch their breath. They were silent for several seconds before Dean realized Cas was still bound and gagged.

“Sorry, Cas.”

He apologized as he removed his boxers from his mouth and pulled the tie loose from him wrists. Cas rubbed his pink wrists for a moment before grabbing Dean roughly by the jaw and planting a sloppy, breathless kiss against the man’s burning lips. He broke apart and stared into Dean’s eyes from underneath his lashes for before grinning.

“I can get used to being a human.” 

He sighed, head falling back against the machine in exhaustion.

**Author's Note:**

> www.castiel-priestly.tumblr.com


End file.
